


Marked

by staticrocket



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1813720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticrocket/pseuds/staticrocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say that when we’re born, there’s a word embedded on our skin. The older people call it fate, that they’re words that we carry to our future. That the future will be something that can be brought by that word. People think it leads us to what we will be. Hinata doesn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so it’s five in the morning, and this is completely unedited. This is a fic prompt that became longer than expected, so I'm putting it here as well.

They say that when we’re born, there’s a word embedded on our skin. The older people call it fate, that they’re words that we carry to our future. That the future will be something that can be brought by that word. People think it leads us to what we will be. Hinata doesn’t.

There’s a word on his left wrist, tiny and inconspicuous. A word written in deep black. When he looks at it, the word  _useless_ looks right back at him. He hates how, no matter how tiny it may be, its position still makes it possible to be seen by almost anyone.

He was not useless. He wasn’t, isn’t.

He’s had himself hide that word as well as he could, during volleyball practice most especially. The possibility of it being seen is high enough when you’re not allowed anything to cover it. Hinata’s done as much, not joining in conversations regarding these things and not pushing for anyone to mention it. It’s awkward and he’s insecure. He doesn’t want to be related to anything mentioning it.

He had hoped, at least, that he’d go through being bare without having to mention it.

When Hinata thinks about it, he believes it started during one of the early practices with Kageyama. It was early, the sun’s still not up, and no one was there yet but them. They needed this, though, if they were to ever join the volleyball team. They were there at one side of the court, and he’s holding his wrist, brushing over it. But the word’s not something written, something that can be blurred, and the word  _useless_  still reverberates from his skin. He’ll prove it today, to Kageyama, to this word, that this isn’t him. That the word on his skin, especially when it’s coming from someone else’s lips, isn’t true.

He’ll be able to receive effortlessly. He’s not the word ingrained on his wrist.

He isn’t.

He doesn’t see Kageyama looking at him, confused and somewhat annoyed. There’s only so much time ‘till seven, after all.

"What are you doing?" Hinata hears a bit too late, because Kageyama’s right there next to him when he says it. He hides his arm behind his back as reflex.

"Nothing," he stutters. It was only a second, he guesses, that Kageyama had seen his wrist, so he’s hoping he didn’t see it. But Kageyama doesn’t say anything, the irritated look on his face still there. He doesn’t push and moves towards the storage room.

"Stop wasting time and let’s practice." He’s moved to take out the cart of volleyballs and Hinata looks at his wrist once more before going over to help him. He thinks he feels the word pulse on his skin, and he chooses to ignore it.

He’ll get Kageyama to toss to him. He will.

Later, when the vomit’s been cleaned up and it’s almost time to hurry out of the gym without getting caught, Hinata takes the time to look at his wrist again. He’s smiling, proud and pleased. He’d gotten the toss he wanted. He’s not useless.

He doesn’t notice Kageyama looking at him oddly, and the latter doesn’t mention it.

* * *

The next would probably be after the game against the Karasuno Neighbourhood Association. He thinks every part of him is tingling, and he looks at his wrist all proud and happy. He’s done what he can even if he’s not an ace. He’s something else that’s worth something, something important to the team.

Not useless.

The word is still there, to his dismay, but he thinks that he’s not that word. He won’t be that word. He’s given his all in his own way, and he’ll make it so he won’t be a hindrance.

He knows he’s still red, from the game and from what Kageyama had told him. He’s heard something too incredible, too special. When he thought he felt the word pulse against him, he heard something so important.

He’ll be great. With Kageyama, he’ll be great.

But when Hinata hears Kageyama’s words in his head again, he’s grateful, really, but it also makes him vexed somehow. He’s happy, but not comfortable. He feels like the word on his wrist’s trying to encompass him. Like he’s not satisfied with just that.

The word useless passes through his head, and it makes him clench his fist.

He’s happy, he realises, but he knows he’ll be able to do this on his own, later. He can prove he’s not useless even without Kageyama’s help.

But the words come back to him again, and he admits that he still feels ecstatic.

Thank you, he thinks, but doesn’t say.

* * *

When Karasuno lost to Aobajousai, Hinata felt like the word was swallowing him up again. He’d looked at it at the end of the match, while everyone was tired and frustrated around him. It was aggravating.

No one had said a word even when they were getting ready to go home. Hinata had quietly excused himself to the restroom, and had gone over to the sink immediately upon entering. No matter what he did, the word wouldn’t wash away.

 _Useless_ , he hears in his head. _Useless_.

What he hears on his way back to the team didn’t help him feel any better.

It was on one side of the corridor, a group of people from another team that Hinata’s never heard before. He hears his team and his jersey number, and he hears of his incompetence.

It was a small thing, he knows. Just them talking about how he’s not as great as they had expected. That Karasuno, as amazing as they had played, still didn’t have enough to win against Seijou.

He feels the word pulse on his skin, and he almost thinks for one moment that it’s pulling him in. That you can’t escape, and the word you’re born with will always haunt you.

He absolutely hates it.

So when, a day later, when Hinata sees Kageyama playing on his own and goes over to join him, the frustration he feels just bursts out of him. He wants to win, he admits, and, when he stands back up again, Hinata glances at his wrist once more. He’s not this, not this word.

He knows Kageyama’s looking at him with the same determined look, so when they begin to have their lunch afterwards, he admits. “Yesterday, I overheard - “

"Don’t listen to them."

He looks up from his lunch to see Kageyama looking ahead. He looks as if he’s concentrating.

"Did they talk about how bad we were?" Kageyama asks, and Hinata wonders if he should specify that it wasn’t _them_ but more of _him_.

He grips his wrist, unconsciously.

"Sort of," he replies, still debating in his head.

The bell rings after, making Hinata jump in surprise, and they hurry to move back to their classrooms. Side by side, the walk back is rather silent, and Hinata feels his aggravation receding into tiredness.

"Just," Hinata hears from beside him. When he looks, the expression on Kageyama’s face feels too serious, too sentimental. He wonders why.

"Just," Kageyama begins again. "Don’t ever listen to them." They’re almost to the corridor where they should part ways, and Kageyama gives him another look before turning away. "You’re this team’s decoy… You’re - you’re irreplaceable. I’m not gonna make sure the tosses I’ll do won’t be something I’ll be sorry for. So you - you shouldn’t, too." Hinata can hear how hard he’s trying to say his words, but the idea that Kageyama put in effort in telling him this was more than enough.

He makes a sound of agreement, and they give each other one more look before separating. Hinata almost thinks Kageyama was blushing.

* * *

It’s the last of their training camp in Tokyo. It’s an hour before the barbecue, and Hinata’s gone off to his room to get another shirt while the rest are waiting outside. He’s hurrying, excited and really hungry, when he hears footsteps from behind him. He turns to see it’s Kageyama.

Still on high, he remarks. “We pulled it off.” Kageyama looks at him with a raised brow.

"It’s still not perfect," the other reminds. "It was pure luck we were able to do it the first time. We need more practice."

Hinata just laughs. “You’ll be able to do it. You’re incredible.” He doesn’t see Kageyama making faces, full of surprise.

He’s quiet until: “You were able to hit it with ease,” Kageyama tries. “That was from your own efforts.” Hinata touches his wrist unconsciously, pleased and amused at how Kageyama’s really trying with his compliments. Offhandedly, Hinata recalls how Sugawara-san did mention at one point that Kageyama’s most especially trying to compliment him. He chuckles.

"Thanks," Hinata says, smiling fondly as they open the door to their room. Remembering what he had come here to do, he goes over to where his bag is. He sees Kageyama from the corner of his eye opening his own.

In the silence, he speaks up. “You told me, that one time, when we lost to Seijou. How important I was on the team.” He takes out one shirt, staring at the contents of his bag after as he continues. “I never got to thank you for that.”

Kageyama looks over to him, and, without saying anything, moves closer. The next thing Hinata sees it one of Kageyama hands, opened palmed and facing him.

"The word I was born with," Kageyama begins. "It was strange compared to other people. It wasn’t some word to describe me or anything." His hand’s wide, Hinata muses, and he sees it. A word written on his palm, below where the index finger is connected. A tiny, three letter word.  _Not._

"It didn’t make any sense," Hinata hears him continue. "So I never really cared about it." Kageyama stops there, and Hinata looks past his hand to see Kageyama looking as if he’s struggling. His cheeks are becoming tinged with pink, and he won’t look at Hinata in the eye.

"I saw yours," he admits, and Hinata’s eyes widen. "And I thought. This word can fit with yours. So…" The struggle in his voice is too obvious, that Hinata tries really hard not to smile in amusement. Because he’s climbed up his own hill and gone through his own efforts, and he’s realised that Kageyama was, too. Right there next to him as they each went through their own problems. They’ve gone and done what they can, and had made themselves an indispensable part of the team.

_Not useless._

"So…" Kageyama tries again, and Hinata, not being able to take it anymore, just laughs. He registers Kageyama’s irritated expression before promptly pulling him in an embrace.

"I get it," he says, hugging him tighter. It’s about half a minute before Kageyama returns it. "I get it." He repeats, all smiles, and he feels the word pulse on his wrist again, but it doesn’t seem as bad as it was before.

When they go back outside a while later, Hinata’s all cheer and excitement accompanied with Kageyama, still pink and fidgety. It's too obvious and too certain that the atmosphere isn’t lost to the rest of the team.


End file.
